


take one down, pass it around

by pseudoanalytics



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drugs, F/M, M/M, Multi, Shotgunning, Smoking, incorrect usage of BB-8, specifically weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoanalytics/pseuds/pseudoanalytics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe introduces Finn and Rey to the wonders of dank space weed. Includes: a few kisses and ot3 cuddling</p><p>(partially inspired by this tweet: https://twitter.com/PoeGoogles/status/685368920476381184)</p>
            </blockquote>





	take one down, pass it around

**Author's Note:**

> abby told me to write this and i spent way too long on it and i might be slightly high myself right now oops.
> 
> poe is the kind of person who has weird memory and time distortion, while believing he's cracked the secrets of the universe. rey is the giggly one who thinks everything is funny and has way too much energy and eats twice their weight in carbs. and finn is the lethargic, boneless one who literally cannot even deal right now.
> 
> also, even though i just hypocritically wrote 2,800 words romanticizing marijuana, please think twice before doing drugs. it's not good for you and you should try to take care of yourself.
> 
> but anyway
> 
> space weed

It’s come to Poe’s attention that he always looks slightly high. The General questions him about it, Jess teases him about it, and Snap worries about it, like, they do really important stuff, man; Poe can’t be baked during missions. The problem is that it’s just his face. Poe has explained this many times, that it’s all in the half-lidded eyes and relaxed, easy grin. The fortunate thing is that Finn and Rey don’t know any better, and they just like his stupid face how it is. However, since they really _don’t_ know any better, it’s Poe’s responsibility to introduce them to these new experiences. After all, just because Poe isn’t always high, doesn’t mean he _never_ is.

 

Poe keeps all of his extracurricular activities compartmentalized and away from his business with the Resistance. God forbid he let anything get in the way of the good of the universe and its inhabitants. That being said, when he’s flown the maximum number of missions, and the General suggests, no, demands he take a break, well, who is he to turn down the time off.

 

Poe keeps his materials under his cot, in a ragged cardboard box that once held a new pair of flight boots and now has “DANK SPACE WEED” scrawled on the side in dark, black marker, a lovely label he’d bestowed upon it during a particularly enlightening session.

 

BB-8 rolls in just as he’s opened the box on his cot, sitting cross legged on the floor beside it. Xe chirps something that boils down to the imminent arrival of Poe’s two favorite people in the universe. He’s scrambling to shove everything back in place, when the door hisses open and Finn and Rey walk in, arguing good-naturedly about the legality of using the Force in hand-to-hand combat sparring. Finn rightfully points out the unfair imbalance of power, as Rey understandably notes that as a Jedi, she needs practice using the Force to her advantage.

 

Poe sits on the floor, attempting to take on the most casual pose possible, so as to look more like someone relaxing on the ground in their living quarters and less like someone caught watching lascivious holovids by their mother. Of course no matter how smooth and suave Poe is (which he totally _is,_ BB-8), nothing can get past a Jedi, even if they’re still in training.

 

“What was that?” Rey asks simply.

 

“What was what?” Poe replies, just a little too quickly.

 

Finn is already pushing past him to reach under his bed.

 

“I don’t know if you wanna be poking around under there, buddy. I can’t remember the last time I actually cleaned in here,” Poe warns, but Finn has found the box and is reading the label aloud in a tone, that for anyone other than sweet, kind Finn, might be considered derisive.

 

“Is this… marijuana?” Rey asks, and Poe can’t help but bite back a laugh at the term. “I’ve seen that before, back on Jakku. Traders would have some, and they’d smoke in their tents, and you could smell it through the night. I liked it.”

 

“No one likes the smell of weed,” Poe corrects.

 

Rey shrugs. “I do.”

 

Finn looks slightly upset. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s when he doesn’t know or understand something. He’s willing to ask, always eager to learn more and catch up on references available to those who _didn’t_ grow up a slave to the First Order, but until he gets his answer, Finn stresses, feeling like an outsider all over again.

 

“Weed, or marijuana, is a drug people ingest to get high,” Rey tells him. Finn doesn’t look any more convinced. “I’ve always wanted to try some,” she continues. “Can I?”

 

Poe blinks several times as he attempts to come to terms with the fact that yes, on his weekend off, he’s found himself on the floor of his room, staring up at a confused Finn as Rey asks to smoke weed with him. “Yes?” he returns, aware of how uncertain it sounds.

 

Rey scrambles to correct herself, insisting he doesn’t have to share, but Poe laughs it off with a wave of his hand. “As long as you don’t feel pressured, why not? If you really wanna try it, you might as well do it in a safe space with friends you trust.”

 

“I trust you,” she says firmly, and sits down next to him on the floor, extending the box towards him.

 

“You gonna join, buddy? Don’t feel obligated. You can even just sit and hang out with us. You don’t have to smoke.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Finn mumbles, but he sits down anyway.

 

Poe spins his box so the lid isn’t in his way and starts picking things out. He has a glass bubbler he’d picked up from an Outer Rim planet, and it’s always been his favorite, smoothly curved with wisps of orange and white pigment inside the crystal clear glass. Rey is ogling it with fascination and Poe feels the need to explain.

 

“It looks like BB-8,” he says, as if she’d even asked in the first place, and the previously forgotten droid makes a trill that sounds awfully like a sarcastic, audible eyeroll. Poe tries to send xer a withering glare, but while his eyes are talented at looking stoned, they struggle to hold any menace for an extended period of time, and Poe ends up just smiling and turning back to the task at hand. He uses an old stylus to pack the bowl, before standing and reaching for the control panel for his room. He locks the door and switches the air filter to maximum circulation, before dramatically sitting back down, beckoning to BB-8.

 

“You know how to do this?” he asks Rey, and she gives him a look full of confidence and determination.

 

“Of course I do,” she says firmly, pushing back stray wisps of hair.

 

Poe gives her a look that conveys his utter disbelief. “Well for those who _don’t_ know, let me show you.” Rey’s face loses its bravado and looks thankful instead, relief spreading across her features.

 

“Cover this hole here with your thumb, and breathe in hard as you light it. Then just keep breathing in until you’re done with the hit. Then pull away, breathe in deeper to really get the smoke to your lungs, and then blow out. I’ll go first, okay? You can back out anytime; do it for fun, not because you feel like you have to.” Poe pauses to let either or both of them beg out, but Finn is watching him with intense eyes, like he’s trying to perfectly memorize Poe’s every movement, and Rey just looks confused. “You good?” he asks her.

 

“How do you light it?” she inquires.

 

Poe can’t stop the grin from splitting his face. “Watch and learn.”

 

He slips a thumb over the hole and bends towards BB-8, who whips out xer blowtorch and dips it towards the bowl. Poe sucks in and the flame bends to meet what’s packed inside. He pulls back from the droid, continuing to inhale, before lowering the bubbler and letting out a huge puff of smoke. It clouds the room around him, before being sucked away into the filter.

 

“Just like that,” he grins, and Rey looks absolutely thrilled. She reaches out, shaking with excitement, before carefully wrapping thin, lithe fingers around the base. BB-8 takes the hint, and xe rolls over to light it. Rey’s inhale is sharp and quick, and she’s pulling back instantly, coughing and fanning the smoke released. “Too fast,” she chokes, and she wipes ash from her tongue onto the back of her hand with a disgusted look.

 

“You’ve got this. Try again if you want.” Poe hands her a bottle of water, and she sucks it down greedily. He can’t tell if it’s because the smoke dried her throat out, or if it’s just something she’s done after years of being raised on a planet that’s 99% desert. Either way, she won’t back down from a challenge, grabbing the bubbler again, face set in determination. BB-8 relights it, and Rey sucks in firmly but controlled. She passes the bubbler back and lets out a cloud of smoke like a professional. Poe isn’t sure if his heart's still beating, because he’s kind of overwhelmed by the sheer joy in her grin. Her eyes are bright, and Rey is so obviously pleased with herself that Poe can’t help matching her smile.

 

BB-8 nudges him with an unlit blowtorch, and Poe picks up the smooth glass to take another hit of his own. He snaps the rest of the bowl and sets about emptying and repacking it, turning towards Finn. “You want a go?”

 

He’s not prepared for the enthusiastic yes.

 

Finn takes the bubbler into his hands, and Poe is stuck staring at his capable looking fingers and broad palms. He wonders when two hits alone became enough to make him fixate over hands. Finn follows the steps perfectly, but his inhale is so small, Poe wonders if there’ll even be smoke. There is, but only a little, and Finn looks distinctly uncomfortable, holding his throat.

 

“It’s really hot,” he hisses, and Poe feels badly.

 

“Shit, man. It’s a bubbler, so you’re supposed to add water to the bowl to cool it before it hits your throat, but that’s a lot of work, and then there’s a bunch of gross, wet ash so I just… don’t bother…” Poe’s rambles trail off at the look of amusement on Finn’s face. Finn shakes his head and rasps, “Here. That smells awful,” as he passes back the glass.

 

Poe hands it to Rey, who protests that it smells great, and she does much better her second time, though she still coughs repeatedly. He rolls her another water bottle, but she doesn’t drink it yet, just props it against a leg. The two of them finish the bowl, and as Poe’s repacking again, an idea occurs to him. His vision is already changing. It seems sharper somehow, as if everything is in focus at once, so he turns his attention to Finn.

 

“Hey, I have an idea that’ll keep the smoke from burning your throat.”

 

Finn looks intrigued, so he continues on, aware that this is a bad idea, but also unable to give a shit.

 

“It’s called shotgunning. It’s too hard for me to explain right now, but I can show you.”

 

“Go for it.”

 

Poe fucking loves Finn. He’s always game for anything, always ready for a challenge. Poe lights again and inhales, holding the smoke in his mouth rather than his lungs. Then slowly, he slides over to Finn’s side and reaches for his face. Poe can’t hold his breath for too long, but he does his best to move in slowly to avoid spooking Finn. Their lips touch, and Finn is kissing back chastely, and Poe can’t breathe because this is Finn, and they’re kissing, but then he’s breathless for a different reason.

 

Poe runs out of air and coughs, blowing smoke into Finn’s face like he hasn’t done since he first started his recreational activities. Finn’s coughing too and pulling back but there’s something written there in his smirk, like he gets it; he understands, and this time when Poe goes in, mouth full of smoke once more, Finn grabs the back of his head and reels him in fast. This kiss is different, and when Finn’s mouth opens, Poe blows the smoke in, and it’s inhaled quickly. Finn holds it before letting it out in his first successful hit.

 

Poe is so busy staring into his eyes, that it takes him by complete surprise when a hand behind him tangles in his hair and pulls back hard. Poe’s jaw drops at the sensation, magnified by a tingling sensitivity that’s been slowly creeping in over time, and a mouth seals over his own, which is filling with smoke. Poe inhales from Rey and feels lightheaded for several reasons by the time he lets it out. She’s grinning, so proud of herself, and Poe can’t remember when she moved to sit on the bed, but time is feeling a little relative now and he might be higher than he thought he was. He doesn’t mind and just enjoys watching Finn and Rey pass smoke and the bubbler back and forth, letting him take his own hits and repack it when necessary.

 

He kisses Finn again several times, and once he didn’t even have smoke in his mouth to begin with. Rey kisses Poe too, and his heart stops when he watches her crawl past and kiss Finn as well. Poe thinks he might say he loves them, and they might both say that they know. It’s when they both move in to kiss him, Finn with an uncontrolled, lax mouth and Rey with one that devours and takes takes takes, that he realizes that they love him too.

 

Poe’s really not sure when they moved to all being cuddled on the bed, and he thinks he remembers spinning in a circle with his arms out a while ago, but he doesn’t want to ask if that’s a false memory or not.

 

Finn is sprawled across his lap, completely boneless, content to listen to Rey and Poe’s one-sided conversation, and occasionally wave his hand in the air. He has a huge grin on his face, and his eyelids are drooping so much they almost seem shut.

 

Rey is talking about food. She talks about how hungry she is, and about how the mess hall would still be open, and how she’d just _kill_ for some carbs right now. Anything bready, she’s not picky. Poe wants to tell her that he doesn’t want to head to the mess, but by the time he’s able to say so, he’s shocked to find that they’re already there. Rey has two sandwiches and a big bowl of pasta, and Finn is stretched out on the bench next to him, reaching up to poke at Poe’s shoulder.

 

Rey devours the food like lightning, and she’s heading back for seconds when Poe realizes something vital, while staring down at Finn’s blissed out face. Whatever weight held down his tongue earlier is suddenly gone, and Poe is desperate to get out what is undoubtedly the most important thing he’ll ever say.

 

“Dude, Finn. Did you ever realize that one is equal to four?”

 

Finn drags out his, “Whattttttt?” for so long, that Poe accepts that no, he never has realized this. So obviously Poe must explain.

 

“It’s like, the names we give numbers don’t even matter, they’re just titles we give a certain value, so it doesn’t matter what name I say, as long as the value I mean gets across. So like, this many things,” Poe pauses to hold up four fingers, “could be called one. It doesn’t matter because the number name isn’t important; it’s the actual quantity. So I can call this one. Or three. Or even two hundred, and it doesn’t matter!”

 

His ears are buzzing, but he can still hear Finn’s soft laugh and whisper of, “Poe! Poe, I’m not even listening to you right now!” but most of all, he can hear laughter. Rey’s been laughing all evening, just constantly, and Poe had no idea he was so funny, but he’s glad she’s happy. He tips backwards onto his bed, then startles at the fact that they’re back in his room, and he cannot recollect the trip once again. He says as much and Rey is snickering again, and Poe can see how bloodshot her eyes are.

 

She’s talking to Finn about how the cafeteria personnel definitely knew they were baked and how nice the smoke smells, and Finn is just laughing soundlessly and saying in a hushed voice that Rey’s words are way too fast, and he can’t hold onto them long enough to listen.

 

Poe is struck by how perfect they are, and he’s hit with the urge to remember everything they say tonight. He dangles his arm off the bed and pulls the thick black marker out of his, no, their box now. He doesn’t have paper to write on, so he rolls up a sleeve and sets to work taking careful word-for-word notation of everything Finn and Rey say, directly onto his arm.

 

At some point, they end up snuggled together, with one of Finn’s arms and one of his legs flopped across them, as he insists that he can’t remember how to move them. Rey is in the middle, mumbling about how hungry she still is, and laughing at everything anyone says, even if it’s herself. Poe is exhausted but cozy, on the outside of the bunk, and he stares at the lightswitch far across the room. BB-8 is not readily visible, so Poe knows it’s up to him. He tries shaking his head rapidly to teleport to the light and turn it off, before they all fall asleep, cuddled together.

 

When they wake up in the morning, the light is still on, Finn’s throat is sore, and Rey has to use the bathroom. Poe shifts to let her out and gets a look at his arm, where the only thing on it is a now slightly smudged, crooked smiley face in black, permanent marker.

**Author's Note:**

> don't do drugs kids


End file.
